


Lounging

by T_Philips



Series: A Collection of Things [1]
Category: Grand Theft Auto V, trikey - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Thoughts about the past, trevor is wearing booty shorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 03:15:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8187388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/T_Philips/pseuds/T_Philips
Summary: A lazy day under the skin burning sun turns a little bit cooler.





	

The sun bleached chair that sat next to the designer pool for hours in the sun that day was unsurprisingly red coal hot, but Trevor didn't mind. Even ignored the feeling of a concentrate of ball sweat collecting on his tant and the skin on his bare back seemingly begin to combust. It was hot, yes, but nothing he wasn't used to. He has spent countless days out wandering the Senora Desert as a result of a bad huffing; woken up by a curious coyote who looked about as bone skinny as Trevor felt after returning to his humble abroad after days of walking and sweating the last ounces of any bodily fluid out. But, today was a good day. And nothing could take away the absolute serenity and peacefulness he felt from the bowl he had just hit inside the large retirement home Michael owned. Nothing. Not even a bird who tries to shit on his parade could disturb him. 

Anyone in their right mind would have made a u turn at the sight of the balding meth riddled cannibal casually lounging on their highly priced cushioned sun chairs; bare chested, happily reclined with his legs spread, in the tiniest pair of orange running shorts that did nothing the mask the blatant sight of his jewels hanging out of the right pant leg. Not to mention the very large, newly acquired torso tattoo that states "fuck cops" in sketchy font with dark black inks right under his pecks. But, of course, Michael De Santa isn't just anyone. Currently, Michael stands just inside the house behind the glass doors leading to the patio, staring at the man displayed before him. Not in surprise, he's seen this scene too many times in the movies. The full-bosomed woman love interest of the star hunk is lounging out by the pool with a large sun hat covering her face, but her body is sleazily covered with tiny pieces of bikini- or something like that. Neither the less, Michael can't get the thought of Trevor's ass swallowing a thong piece of a bikini.

Michael can't complain, not every day is his blessed with the rare sight of Trevor actually minding his own business, being quiet and sleeping for once. Many nights both of them have spent laying awake in bed after a day of recreation and play, but Trevor always seemed to stay awake the remainder of the night; most likely slinking away for some more "fun" under the light of the moon. For forever long they had known each other, Trevor never was the one to suggest sleep as a way to pass time in between hits on whatever business Lester had picked for them that week. It was always Michael who cat napped during the times that they weren't out painting the town. 

Trevor stayed awake all night. Every night. Sometimes laying in the large plush bed staring up at the stucco ceiling, other times spent doing whatever came to mind. Though Michael always woke to him the next morning by his side, he knew Trevor rarely allowed himself the full twelve hours. His bladder now a days never lets him sleep his eight hours, and not to his surprise, he has woken most times to Trevor no where to be found; his side of the beds covers still ruffled and unmade. The nights he finds the other man still within the house he was: watching mindless television, making woopy with his right hand, piss drunk and stumbling about. Other nights there is no trace of the meth addict. 

But, today is one of those times that are treasured. Trevor was most likely in a some sort of good mood, which meant some good ol' lazy times. 

Trevor's nostril twitches and he slaps a rough palm over it, needing at the twitching. His eyes are closed, but he can still see the bright sun through his eyelids. He grunts in annoyance, flipping over suddenly to plant himself belly down on the sun chair, back riddled with indents of the textured textile of the padding, shorts trying their hardest to hold his ass within them as he stretches out again. It's a sight that no one would voluntarily look upon. Unless warts and red irritated skin of the bottom of his pasty white ass was something that appealed to you. 

The memory of Trevor waltzing around the house with a pair of women's lace crotchless panties on runs rampant in Michaels mind as he finally decides to make his way out of the house with a glass of scotch and a beer for his partner. He rolls his eyes at the chainsaw like snoring vibrating off his eardrums the second he opens the patio doors, walking the short distance to the second chair of the three lined facing the pool. To his surprise, Trevor snores undisturbed by his presence, not even a turn of his eyes under the lids. 

Michael just shrugs, leaning back a bit in the recliner, holding his scotch and letting his eyes slip shut after the first few sips. Though it seems paradise has finally found him by his pool, he lays quietly like a duck unaware of Trevor's bloodshot, yellow ringed eyes flickering open and peering out at his relaxed form. 

Trevor tries to blink his tiredness away but he remains feeling drowsy and weak. He blows hot air out of his nose from a denied yawn before pushing himself up with his arms just enough the get to his feet. A flash of evil flickers in the back of his mind at the thought of throwing the slumbering Michael in the pool. His muscles still are limp and he decides against it, instead leaning down to grab the glass held softly in the napping man's hand, chugging the remains before placing it on the small table beside the chair. A smirk flickers across his face, and he leans down again, throwing a leg around the other side of the sun chair, trapping the older criminal under him. 

"Wakey, wakey." He grumbles, mouth close to the others ear. "I know you're not asleep." Trevor growls. 

No response.

The image of Michael being flung into the pool becomes perfectly clear. 

"Well, sleeping beauty, if you're not gonna wake up we'll just go for a lil dip shall we~"

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is my first posting on A03, I've mainly been posting on wattpad but I figured I'd join the fun over here. Please leave comments and suggestions for the next fic! I'd greatly appreciate feedback in any kind of form. 
> 
> Thanks for being cool.


End file.
